


Those New Curves of Yours

by Imiaslavie



Series: Spell Book For Kinky Ones [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean hates the word 'boyfriends', Exploration of sexuality, F/M, Feminization, Fluff and Humor, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Sam is sneaky but supportive brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:24:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6475669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imiaslavie/pseuds/Imiaslavie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New case in a weird 24-hour female exclusive bathhouse requires high-level infiltration using high-level disguise and ultra-skills of impersonation. Costumes? Won't work. Magical spell book? Definitely will!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those New Curves of Yours

**Author's Note:**

> The series was supposed to be a pure exploration of kinks in many dirty ways, but Dean suddenly decided to have relationship crisis and fluff-humor-family themes won, so I'm making this part in two chapters, sexytimes coming in the second chapter (followed by serious but fluffy stuff again haha)

This had started with a case. A case in the weirdest place they had ever been: a bathhouse that worked 24 hours per day and was exclusively for women. A case that had been requiring a high-level infiltration using high-level disguise and ultra-skills of impersonation.

Meaning: they had had to pose as girls.

Well, at least one of them. And Sam had suffered the storm of _‘It’s time for your hair to do their work’_ and _‘There’s no need to hide your make-up bag from us anymore, Samantha’_ jokes with all the nobility he could master. He had been a patient human being and a good brother after all. That’s why he’d seasoned Dean’s meat pie with a good amount of salt and pepper. 

And then, after drinking enough glasses of milk and having an epiphany, Dean had offered to check the spell book. And – what do you know – there was a spell that changed person’s biological sex. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little bit… unwise?” Sam said, scepsis clear in his voice. “This is one of your kinky-dirty-private-I-don’t-want-to-hear-of spells, maybe it will turn you into a girl and make you, like, super horny.”

“First of all, if this spell was to make a person horny, the book would _mention_ it. Second, why the hell did you say ‘you’? Maybe it will be _you!_ ”

Without further ado, Sam had folded his arms into rock-paper-scissors-ready position.

With a very loud and very much prolonged ado, Dean had accepted the fact he was the one to turn into a girl.

They started gathering ingredients immediately, going through numerous storage rooms of the bunker. Cas would occasionally mumble something about cataloguing their stockrooms after they finish with the library. It could be vital one day.

“Dean, how about you close the boxes gentler?” Sam asked when Dean shoved another empty box back into the slot with too much force. They had found everything sans the roots of some stupid rare plant with a name Dean couldn’t even pronounce.

“Oi, fuck off, Sammy, you aren’t the one who is about to lose his dick!”

“Stop being the drama queen! The spell lasts only for 24 hours!”

“Sam is right, Dean. Just half the day,” Cas added, putting some white flowers into the paper bag. “I’m going to soak these in milk. Come to the kitchen when you find the root, okay?”

Sam held the heavy metal door so Cas wouldn’t have trouble with opening it and bearing numerous paper bags at once. It closed with a loud echoing sound, leaving two brothers alone.

They worked in silence for ten more minutes until Sam spoke again.

“I don’t really get why are you so upset. So, you gonna turn into a girl and infiltrate this weird bathhouse, so what? This can be awkward, yeah, but what is so bad?” Dean said nothing, only kept rummaging through boxes. “Dean? Dean, come on. Really, what’s so bad? I mean, this is the dream of all the boys in the world – wander through the bathhouse full of naked girls unnoticed!”

“Well, it’s not mine!”

“And I’m not saying it is, I’m saying there’s nothing-”

And Dean finally exploded.

“It doesn’t feel right! Okay?” he turned to Sam, face angry. “I don’t want to swim in the sea of naked women’s bodies, which I sure will touch whether I want or not. And it won’t be my fault, but fuck, I… I won’t feel comfortable, okay? You got me. Dean Winchester will be uncomfortable in a presence of naked women. Great.” He almost dropped the jar with some oil from his hand, tried to shove it back into the compartment, but couldn’t set it right in the place with his shaking hands. “Fucking great. Hilarious.”

Sam watched all this, worried and slightly horrified by the intensity of his brother reaction.

“Do you… hm, do you know why do you feel like that?”

Dean turned around and looked at him, his lips pursed.

“I will feel unfaithful. I know I will. Naked women beside me have always meant I’m going to have sex, there haven’t been other kinds of situations. And it’s not like I will drool because of some kind of reflex, I’m not a fucking Pavlov’s dog, or suddenly will feel desire, or will be obligated, but still… I will feel like I’m doing something bad, something unfair.”

“Dean,” Sam contained an inappropriate chuckle, “you do know what you are feeling is irrational? Cas would never feel like that. It wouldn’t even cross his mind, never, not because he is too blind or something, but because you would never betray him.”

“I know I won’t! But here’s the thing about irrational thoughts – they still hurt. Fuck, I shouldn’t be in such places anymore, I’m a ma-”

Sam choked. Dean coughed.

“-n, a man in a committed relationship. And I-”

The loud metal squeak of the opening door stopped him. 

“Sam, Dean, it’s been twenty minutes. Have you found the root?” Cas asked from the outside.

“Uh, yeah, yeah!” Sam responded, and Dean finally saw the small black root in his brother’s hand. “We’ll be in a sec.” He grabbed the door’s handle and pulled it with a free hand, then turned back, meeting Dean’s gaze. “You okay?”

They went out to follow Cas to the kitchen. Dean shrugged his shoulders, his gaze glued to Cas’ shoulder blades, covered by the sky blue shirt (which Dean, actually, hated, because it reminded him of the shirt Cas from the other 2014 had been wearing). Sam looked between the two of them, his gaze calculating, and then spoke, curiosity in his voice sounding just a little bit artificial.

"Listen, Cas, if I'm not mistaken, there once were bathhouses in Rome made for both women and men, yes? One big place for everyone?"

“Yes, yes, absolutely! They were rare and many wanted them banned, thought they were the evidence of Roma falling, but they existed. Of very grand architecture they were, these bathhouses, beautiful places, always full of free spirits,” Cas gave him an enthusiastic confirmation. “Many men and women would come there to be free in their words, pure in their intentions, to wash their bodies but never to commit any sins. And not only in Roma! I once visited an ancient American tribe, small, secluded and much more advanced than the rest of the world thanks to the blessing of one of my brothers. And elderly union consisting of five women and five men had that ritual of washing together in the sacred lake,” he paused for a second, smiled. “I once participated, actually, they knew I was an angel and wanted me to bless the water with my presence. It was very enjoyable experience.”

Sam hummed his thanks and gave Dean a meaningful nod. Dean scoffed, but both his face and posture relaxed, tension left his jaw.

“By the way… at one moment I got the impression you were going to use the _other_ word,” Sam whispered and gave Dean a knowing look.

“Have no idea what you mean.”

“You do.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.

“Do not.”

“Do-”

“Will you two shut the fuck up and hand me the root so I can slice it?” Cas, no other word to use, barked, using his commanding voice. It was, actually, pretty unfair of him to use the voice he once used to command the whole garrison just on two of them, but… It was kind of hot. Not for Sam, obviously, who almost jumped and hurried to hand over the root.

Brothers watched as Cas thoroughly sliced the dark meaty root and added half of it into the bowl that already contained dark green liquid glistening with violet. The whole kitchen counter was a mess of herbs, roots, small bottles, dirty knives and miniature spoons, and also – a half-empty bottle of milk.

Dean eyed the concoction with suspicion.

“You want to tell me this thing that looks like water from Shrek’s swamp was once a milk? And I am to drink this? Cas!”

“Dean. Quit whining.”

“Whining? I’m not whining. I’m afraid for my life!”

“But, Dean,” Cas said, something mischievous in his eyes, “have this book ever let us down?”

Dean felt his ears heat up at tips, visions of the best and kinkiest sex he had ever had filling his mind. Oh yes. The spell book had been working wonderfully. Even that night when Dean hadn’t gotten any real action for he had been sleeping deep enough to be confused with a man in a coma, that night left him with a feeling of deep relaxation from his head to toes and satisfaction of seeing Cas happy and blushing and hella thankful. 

“Okay, okay,” Dean sighed, moving his hand to rest on Cas’ back, “I got it. Is it ready?”

“Just have to heat it up a little.”

“And then I suggest you move it to your bedroom,” Sam interrupted. “I have no hidden desire to watch my brother growing boobs. No offence.”

“Offence taken. I’m going to be gorgeous, ya know.”

“Show it to your,” Sam paused for a fraction of a second, “ _boyfriend_.” And left the kitchen.

Dean gulped, realizing his stupid little brother had no intention of letting that slip-up, that Dean had made in the archive, go. And it wasn’t even about embarrassment, God no. It would be too easy. This was about the necessity to change things, to once again feel comfortable about himself and, maybe even, making sure the world was up to date too. 

He watched absentmindedly as the concoction in small bronze pot started sizzling and then, after Cas took it off the stove, gradually lost its color and became silky white. At least, it didn’t look like a slime anymore.

Castiel, it seemed, sensed Dean’s distress. He poured the liquid into the cup, grabbed it in one hand and Dean’s sweaty palm into the other and led them to their bedroom.

“I’m fine, by the way,” Dean mumbled, eyeing the cup. “Really. Just healthy levels of worry.”

“Are you sure?” They both sat on the bed, their knees touching. “We joked about it, but even if this spell works properly, it’s still some serious stuff. Is there something particular that worries you?”

“No. Not really. I don’t know. What if I’m stuck in girl’s body?”

“It obviously wouldn’t bother me,” Cas didn’t hesitate for a second with answering, “nor, I’m sure, Sam. Would it really bother you?” 

“It would. But, uh… I guess I could learn to live with it. I think. Not that such bullshit will ever happen!”

“Of course not. Shall we?” Cas offered Dean the cup. Dean took it, sniffed, realizing it didn’t have any smell despite being made out of a dozen of ingredients. 

Dean counted down from three in his head – and downed the cup.

The liquid that felt cold on his tongue felt searing hot in his throat. So hot he could feel it sliding down and down, settling in his stomach, coating it, and then – spreading everywhere, down his legs, in his arms, his head. Some parts of his body felt considerably worse than others – burning in his chest, his hips, groin, even something that felt like small burning coal in his throat, hot prickling in the skin of his head.

Dean was sure he would scream if not for the cold grip on his neck, strong fingers massaging his skin.

The burning sensation began to slowly subdue, leaving his body with a sweat. The moment Dean finally could think clearly he felt the extra weight in some places and extra space in others. Something was prickling his neck and cheeks.

“Dean? Dean, how do you feel?”

Cas. Still here. Panic in his voice.

“Like I need a shower,” Dean answered. His eyes widened when he heard his own voice – still pretty much low, still heavy, but undeniably feminine.

“Are you in pain?” Cas asked and Dean shook his head. “Good. Good. You want… to see yourself?”

Dean agreed, and they stood up, Cas helping Dean to do so, and walked to the wardrobe mirror, wide and full-height.

“Well…” Dean stared at female self, at rather stunning female self he had to admit. He hadn’t become a sex goddess with crazy body curves and huge breasts, he hadn't become some petite little thing with no impressive body parts at all, no. Mostly? He stayed himself. Same height, same complexion, same bowlegs, everything slender enough to be ridden of masculinity. The changes were… subtle, the spell’s work sophisticated and precise. His hair just a little bit longer, top strands barely reaching his neck; jaw - less wide, less squared, eyes bigger, face looking softer overall; his breasts were small, barely B-cup, but, nevertheless, he now had nice looking boobs; his shoulders had become narrower and hips – wider, and the place Dean was worried about most… His hand went down and cupped between his legs. He felt the familiar softness, the one he had felt a thousand times before when he had been fooling around with girls and let his hands wander under their short skirts. “Damn.”

Cas encircled his arms around Dean’s waist, not giving a damn that his shirt was soaked in sweat.

“You are beautiful,” he said quietly. “If you even have any doubts.”

“Of course I don’t”, Dean snorted. “I told Sammy I would be gorgeous, didn’t I? And here I am,” he made a vague gesture at his reflection, “all plumpy lips and B-cup.”

“Your lips didn’t change, Dean.”

Dean looked, horrified, as the blush covered his face, gentle pink color on his cheeks. Okay, that was not a plan.

“The fuck is this? Why am I blushing? I don’t blush!”

“This body does. And you do blush,” Cas argued. “I notice red tips of your ears each time.”

“You are horrible. And I do need to shower.” Dean freed himself from Cas’ embrace, grabbed deep green button-up shirt (which he couldn’t even remember buying) from the top shelf of wardrobe, a pair of pants with belt… When he opened the drawer with underwear, he snickered. Who would’ve thought he would put his panties to real use someday? Outside the bedroom, that was. 

“I’ll start the car.”

“What? Why? It’s still noon, and we were going to visit the bathhouse at night hours.”

Cas eyed the clothes in Dean’s hands and gave him a smile.

“Because we have to do a little bit of shopping.”

**Author's Note:**

> This part was inspired by the request! If you, reader, have any requests or ideas - leave a comment below :)


End file.
